Seeing with the Heart
by Giggle4
Summary: A house fire leaves John blind. Pocahontas is devistated, but she knows John needs her now more than ever. So when someone begins to target John's life, she knows she has to help him. Summary will most likely change again as this story grows. Sorry. rr
1. Chapter 1

_Seeing with the Heart_

"Pocahontas!" Someone said as they shook her as well. "Pocahontas, hurry!"

Pocahontas's eyes flew open. What could be wrong? She sat up and looked into the worried face of Nakoma.

"What is it, Nakoma? I was sleeping like a rock!" Pocahontas complained.

"Pocahontas, come quick!" Nakoma said.

"What is it?"

"It's John!"

Pocahontas was fully awake and alert at the mention of John Smith's name. What could be wrong?

"What is it, Nakoma?"

"There was a fire in Jamestown and…I'll let Thomas tell you." Nakoma said.

Pocahontas yawned and got to her feet.

"Nakoma, tell me what's wrong!" She said.

"Pocahontas, John's hurt. You have to hurry." Nakoma said.

"Hurt?" Pocahontas demanded. She ran from the hut, and nearly slammed into more villagers, who had gathered to see what all the commotion was about. She wove her way through to Kekata's hut. If John was hurt bad enough to where they brought him to Kekata, he was hurt.

"Thomas!" She called. "Thomas!"

Thomas appeared from Kekata's hut, his face smeared with soot and ash. He had a saddened expression on his face, and Pocahontas felt her heart do a flip.

"Thomas, where's John?" She asked.

"Pocahontas, calm down. He's inside. Pocahontas, I'm so sorry."

"What do you mean 'I'm so sorry'? Thomas, what's wrong with John?" Pocahontas demanded, but her heart feared the worst.

"Pocahontas, I have no clue in the world how to tell you this." Thomas said.

"Tell me what, Thomas?" Pocahontas asked, growing impatient.

"Pocahontas, John is…" Thomas started, but faltered off.

"What?" Thomas looked up at her.

"Pocahontas, John is blind."

* * *

Everyone has full rights to kill me. But remember, things aren't always as they seem. 


	2. Chapter 2

Pocahontas stood in disbelief. Blind?

"Blind?" She asked. Thomas nodded.

"I'm not sure how. His face isn't burned, but his arm is. And our doctor is a complete idiot who doesn't know a thing about treating a burn."

"Does he know?" She asked. Thomas shook his head.

"He hasn't woken up yet, and I thought maybe you would want to tell him."

Pocahontas nodded, but a million things were running through her mind. John was blind. All of those days they had spent together, all those sunsets, all those hikes through the woods. He would never be able to do those again. Knowing that John would have so much pain for the rest of his life made Pocahontas want to scream. And burns left horrible scars.

"Is there any chance he'll ever see again?" Pocahontas asked, but she knew there was no hope. Thomas shook his head.

"No. I'm sorry."

"How did the house fire start, anyway?"

"We're not sure. It wasn't John's cabin, it was actually a storage shed that just so happened to have gunpowder stored there. When that exploded, we all woke up." Thomas explained.

"But how did John become blind if his face wsan't burned?" Pocahontas asked.

"I can't tell you that. All I know is that John _is_ blind."

Pocahontas looked at the ground. She had never thought this would happen. Then again, she had never expected him to be gone for a year after he had been shot by Ratcliffe either. He had just gotten back, and now...now he was blind.

"He's waking up, Pocahontas." Thomas said. She hadn't noticed him go back inside. "Do you want to come in?" Pocahontas nodded and walked slowly into the hut.

John was laying on the floor on a mat where Kekeata had wrapped his arm in bandages. He was moving, and that was a sign that he was waking up. Thomas and Kekata left the room so she could tell him herself. Pocahontas took John's hand, and she knew he was fully awake again when he squeezed her hand.

"Pocahontas, what's going on?" Was the first thing John said. He knew something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it right away.

"You in the village, John. There was fire in Jamestown." Pocahontas said quietly, and she could tell by the sound of her own voice that she was about to cry.

"What's wrong?" John asked. He could tell already that something was wrong, and that something had to be horrible if Pocahontas was crying. He opened his eyes, and it was right then that he knew why Pocahontas was so upset.

Pocahontas took in a painful sigh. "John, you're blind."

John was silent. Blind? How could he be blind?

"I'm so sorry, John." Pocahontas whispered. John closed his eyes and sighed deeply, then squeezed her hand again.

"There's nothing you can do about it." John said. "And I'll be fine."

Tears were streaming down Pocahontas' face by then.

"Why are you crying? I'm fine." John assured her.

Pocahontas shook her head. All she could think was _What do you say in a moment like this?_

* * *

Cheesy way to end the chapter, I know. Sorry. 


	3. Chapter 3

An hour later, John was left alone with his thoughts. He had somehow stayed remarkably calm when Pocahontas had told him he was blind. He didn't know how. His mind and heart were racing. He had stayed calm for her sake. He had only been blind for a couple of hours, but he could already tell that his other senses were sharper. His hearing, for instance. He had heard Pocahontas' bare feet come into the hut before she said anything.

John blinked, as if he expected to see the sunlight after he did. But he didn't. He took in a raged breath. He knew he was shaking. He was scared, and he had to admit it.

John didn't know how he had become blind when he hadn't been burned on his face. The last thing he remembered before falling to the ground unconscious was a flare of bright orange flames, and a small explosion, most likely from the small containers of gunpowder for the guns.

What was he going to do? He would never be able to do what he had done all those years again. He would never again be able to run the woods with Pocahontas again, read, write, see the faces of his friends, or the one he loved.

He heard Pocahontas' footsteps again as they entered the hut. At least he wasn't deaf.

"Pocahontas." He said.

"How did you know it was me?" Pocahontas asked. John shrugged.

"I'm not sure, really. I heard your footsteps." He explained.

Pocahontas sat down beside him and took his hand again. She could feel him trembling slightly. She had never known John to be afraid of anything, but she knew that any person who was suddenly blind would be scared. She was scared, too. She squeezed his had in reassurance.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing." John said. Pocahontas squeezed his hand again.

"Tell me." She said. John sighed.

"I'm scared." He said.

"I know you are." Pocahontas said.

"You're probably the only person I'd ever be able to admit that to, you know."

"I know." She said. "I'm scared for you, too."

"I don't know how I'm blind, though. I wasn't burned on my face." John said.

"I can't answer that, either, John. I wish I could."

"But you can't. I can't answer it either." John said. Pocahontas bit her lip. She could feel the tears running down her face rapidy.

"It could have been worse, you know." John said quietly. Pocahontas nodded, though she knew John couldn't see her.

"You could have been killed. We have to be thankful that you were only blinded and not killed." Pocahontas choked on the last words. Carefully, John reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I may not be able to see, but I can still feel, and hear. I'm still the same person." John assured her. "I'll need your help getting through this."

"I'll be here." Pocahontas promised. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Will you be alright for a little while?"

John nodded. "I'll be fine."

Pocahontas squeezed his hand, got to her feet, and left the hut.

* * *

I'm not good at ending chapters. 


	4. Chapter 4

Pocahontas walked to her canoe in silence. She knew she should have stayed behind with John, but she just couldn't bare to think about all the pain he was in.

* * *

A few hours later, John sat up on his pallet. He knew he shouldn't do what he was about to do, but he was going to do it. He couldn't ask for help. Not when where he was going was a secret. And John hated not being able to do things for himself.

John swallowed hard as he stood up. He sighed with relief, then began to feel his way across the room with his hands on the wall. It never accured to him that he was about to walk out the door, and there was nothing to feel along out there.

He knew he had successfully made it out of the hut when he felt the hot air outside hit his face. He stopped and took in a deep breath. He could hear and sense the villagers around him. Listening carefully, he walked towards the sound of the river. He knew that if he went downstream, he could easily find his destination.

John suddenly felt himself being pushed forward. He fell with a splash into the water. He was thankful it was shallow, but it wasn't in plain view of the village, that much he knew. He could no longer hear the voices of the villagers.

Who had pushed him? Pocahontas would not have done something like that, knowing he was blind. But someone else might have.

John used his ears and his instincts to find his way out of the river. As he did, he tripped over a rock

_Coming out here was the worst idea I've **ever** had._ John thought. _What was I thinking? I'm blind now; I can't see a thing!_

John began to make his way up the river again. Or at least he thought it was upriver. And he sure didn't know hat he would trip over a large log and fall back into the river.

The cold water hit him like a ton of bricks. John knew he had fallen into a deeper, swifter part of the river...and that he'd have to swim.

* * *

Pocahontas was on her way back towards the village when something caught her eye. It was a man, swimming in the worst past of the rapids.

But when he surfaced for air, Pocahontas realized it wasn't just any man. This man had blond hair...and he didn't seem to be able to see.

"**_JOHN!_**" Pocahontas realized with a start. She quickly began to paddle in his direction. "John, hold on!"

John surfaced for air again, spitting water as he did. "Pocahontas!" He called out desperatly. He knew he couldn't swim his way back to the bank. WIth the rapids all around him, he didn't know which way the shore was.

Pocahontas frantically paddled up near him. "John, take my hand!" She called.

John looked in her direction, and she knew he had heard her. "No! You'll get pulled in, too!" He called after her.

"No I won't! John, you have to trust me!" Pocahontas reached out her hand. "I'm almost right beside you! Stick out your hand!"

John reluctantly reached out his hand. He knew there was a chance that she could end up in the same position as he as was in, but there was also a chance that whatever she had in mind could work.

Pocahontas leaned over the side of the canoe a bit and reached out her hand. She knew John was stronger, and heavier than she was, but if she didn't do something**, anything**, John could be drowned! As she passed him as her canoe was taken downriver by the current, she grabbed his hand. She used all her strength to try and pull him into the canoe.

"John, come on! Kick and try to get into the canoe!" She said. John kicked at the water and grabbed the side of the small canoe. Hauling himself up with the help of Pocahontas, he made it into the canoe.

"Are you alright?" Pocahontas panted. John choked out water and sat up in the canoe.

"I'm fine." He said between gulps of fresh air. "But I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up!"

"John, what were you thinking?" Pocahontas asked as she began to paddle.

"I came to find you!" He said as he felt in front of him for the other oar. Finally finding it, be began to paddle.

"But I was coming back, John!" Pocahontas said.

"You still shouldn't have done that! You can't see now, John! You could have been killed!"

"You'd think someone wants me dead." John said.

"What?" Pocahontas asked, turning around to look at him.

"A little upstream, someone pushed me into the river." John answered, dipping his paddle into the water.

"Is that how you ended up back there?"

"No. I tripped and fell back there." John answered.

"That just proves my point that you shouldn't have come out here!" Pocahontas said. "Please John, don't do that again. Please, until you're used to this, please, just stay there."

"I will, I promise." John said. But one question still hung in the air and rattled his brain. Who had pushed him and why?

* * *

Well, that I think that could have gone worse! 


	5. Chapter 5

John still didn't have his answer a month later. He had no idea as to who wanted him killed, and why.

John had come a long way in a month's time. He had learned to walk around again without bumping into things. He had learned to get from Jamestown to the village with the help of Pocahontas and Thomas, who had simply found a lot of string and tied them to every tree along the way, connecting them, like a handrail. If John wanted to know where he was, all he had to do was find the string and follow it back to whichever way he was going.

One thing that John could do without anyone else knowing was shoot his gun. John had always known he would have to rely on his hearing as well as sight as a hunter and soldier. But now he would have to rely solely on his hearing. He had gone out one morning with his gun. Upon hearing a small noise, John had quickly been able to pinpoint where it was. He had shot the bird without meaning to, but he had hit his target head on.

He was on his way to recovery.

* * *

Pocahontas, on the other hand, hadn't been able to accept the fact that the man she loved was blind for the rest of his life. It didn't seem fair to her. John had never done anything to deserve his blindness, and yet he was blind. 

And the thing that still bothered John bothered Pocahontas the most. Who had tried to kill him by pushing him in the river? She didn't know of anyone in the village who would want him dead...but was there someone?

Pocahontas sighed as she pushed her canoe into the water. She needed to talk to Grandmother Willow about this.

* * *

Snap. 

The sound made John spin around suddenly, aiming his gun in the direction the sound had come from.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here." A voice John didn't know sneered. John heard more footsteps, and he knew there were about two or three men in front of him. "A white savage."

Anger boiled inside John. Who were they? One of the men came up to John and waved his hand in front of John, and he laughed.

"Look what we have here, boys. A blind hunter." He said. John narrowed his eyes.

"I may be blind, but I can still aim and shoot." He warned. Another man laughed.

"Prove it." He said. John's ears told him to aim directly in front of him, but to shoot at the ground, not at the person himself. He was still blind, and he was alone. These three outnumbered him in numbers and in sight. John fired the gun and the man jumped back.

"Looks like we have ourselves a white savage alright." He said. John couldn't see it, but he moved his head slightly to the side. "Get him." He ordered.

Something inside John told him to drop everything and run for it. He was no coward, but something told him this wasn't a good place to be. He instantly dropped his gun and took off running towards the sound of the river. He could hear one of the three pick up his gun, and he silently wished he had brought it with him. He heard the warrior's feet oound the earth as they thundered after him, and John knew he was nearing the river.

Suddenly, one of the warriors lunged, and John fell to the ground. He knew he was right at the river's edge from the roaring sound of the rapids downstream. The warrior hauled him backwards, and pushed him to the ground.

"Don't let him get away." The one that seemed to be the leader commanded. The remaining two warriors held John's arms down as their leader cocked John's gun.

"We'll show these savages who's the leader around here." He said and John knew he was aiming right at him.

Suddenly, just as the warrior pulled the trigger, Pocahontas ran out into the clearing, pushing the gun out of the way. It fired into the sky, and the warrior looked at her in surprise. Pocahontas ran over to John and the two warriors immediately released his arms. Pocahontas leaned down next to him.

"Picking on a blind person seems less than fair." She said sternly, and John wondered if she knew the three warriors.

"We wouldn't really have shot him." One said. Pocahontas shot him a look.

"It looks like you were." She said and the three stopped talking. "Go back to your village before I send my father's warriors after you." Pocahontas said, and John had never heard her speak so coldly. He heard the three warriors run off, and he looked at Pocahontas.

"Who were they?" He asked.

"Some warriors from our neighboring tribe." Pocahontas answered. "Those three are always looking for a fight."

"Thank you." John said softly. Pocahontas smiled.

"You don't ever have to thank me." She said. "Just so long as you don't get yourself killed."

"Nowadays, Pocahontas, I can't garentee that I won't." He said, shaking his head.

"I know." Pocahontas admitted. She knew he was right, and that's what she feared the worst.

"Let's get back to the village." She said. "My father needs to know what happened."

John nodded and got to his feet. He trekked back to the village with the woman who had saved his life more than once before beside him.

* * *

I don't know about you, but I'm not so sure I like those three warriors.

Review?


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